a lesser evil than him
by salty nap princess
Summary: Nobody wants him; not his family or his step-family or strangers he liked or California. Nobody, except the Mind Flayer – Max and Billy-centric (mentions of dysfunctional family and physical abuse)


**a lesser evil than him**

;;

**i**

;;

Her stepbrother is – _was_ – a lot of things: cocky, stubborn, too full of himself, bad-tempered. Max could go on (and on _and on_), her list would be endless. She could really devote a few hours just talking about him. But despite all that, Billy wasn't _that bad_.

She's not saying he's great either, because _he wasn't_. That's the facts; he was an asshole most of the time, rude, controlling. If they had actually gotten along, Max wouldn't have needed to sedate him by stabbing him with a needle full of mysterious green goo or drive a nail-covered-bat between his legs or yell at him to leave her and her friends alone.

_But_, he could have been worse.

What they have –_ had_ – is, uh, _was_, complicated.

_It was complicated_.

Max doesn't think she can fully explain it. That's not to say, she was stupid to think otherwise. Max isn't dumb, she knows more things than she lets on. She knows what she had with Billy wasn't exactly healthy. Their stepsiblingshipness (or whatever it's called) was **toxic**. Even abusive at some points with him shouting at her and threatening to kill her friends.

_But_, the thing that nobody tells you about abusive relationships is, that sometimes, you have second doubts. Sometimes, the abuser does something nice – it could be the smallest thing – and the victim would think, 'Huh, maybe he's not so bad after all.'

There were many truths, not just 'what ifs' or maybes. Many realities that were as clear as day; that Billy was a jerk, that he's done horrible things. However, Max has seen things that puts her perspective on pause too. Rare moments where Billy wasn't lying, where he had done something that wasn't entirely evil. Because, he could do all those things if he wanted to.

Billy could have staged many events in their lives – he could have pretended to like her when he was around their parents but then acted mean when their backs were turned, he could have pretended to be her friend but then stabbed her in the back later on, he could have earned her trust then let her down like a real snake. He could have done all that by putting on a mask. But, he didn't. He was real with her – veil and mean, _harsh_, but he was real.

;;

**ii**

;;

Max remembers the first time she met Billy. She remembers being small. She remembers her red hair barely brushing her shoulders and the way Billy's father, Neil Hargrove, planted his hands on her tiny shoulders.

Neil had introduced Billy, he didn't even give his son a chance to say his own name. There was no proper introduction, just a demand.

"Billy, come meet your new sister, her name is Maxine."

Max remembers feeling uncomfortable too, with the weight of her possible step-father's hands. Despite that, she musters up the courage to correct Neil.

"It's Max." She says.

But Neil doesn't even bat an eye, only asking more from his son.

"Shake her hand, Billy." Neil commands.

Max recalls feeling the grip around her shoulders tightened after Neil said that, like the older man was signalling that he would be very frustrated if Billy didn't agree. It scared her.

So she stretched out her hand, more from fear than politeness – waiting, expecting.

.

.

.

Billy had only stared.

;;

And then it became _later._ Way later. With her mother's finger decorated with a golden wedding band and her last name changed to 'Hargrove'.

She and Billy; they were still kids, you know? Practically babies. But the way Billy spoke made Max cringe, it was foul and horrible. It didn't take Max long to note that 'pussy' was BIlly's favourite word. He had thrown it around a lot, and he didn't care who was around when he had muttered those words.

Max _knows_ Billy didn't care because she had witnessed the full force of the word one day while they were at the playground.

"Don't be such a pussy!" Billy argues to his friend.

"I'm not!" His friend says. "You are!"

"Wha – _What_?" Billy snaps. "No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are! If you weren't a pussy then you wouldn't be forcing me to go along with your stupid plan. If you're 'so brave' then do it yourself! If you can't – then – that proves my point, you're _the pussy_, Billy, not me!"

With her blue eyes locked on the two boys, she watched Billy swell before his fist swung and struck the other boy's chin.

"Pussy!" Billy yells, sitting on his 'friend's chest, arms feeling like noodles while his fists felt like steel. "You're the pussy! You! YOU! Not me!"

.

.

.

After that incident, the word 'pussy' no longer becomes Billy's favourite word.

;;

Sometimes Max thinks, _maybe _she's just low-key a push over. _Maybe_ she's used to garbage people. Examples: her stepdad, he's a jerk. And her own dad too, he isn't that great either, he's disorganised and has made her wait three hours at a bus stop more than once.

But Billy is_ just a kid_, like her. He's still growing, charging, learning. He's just mimicking his surroundings. It's odd that he's becoming the thing he hates the most, it's strange alright. But Max thinks she's seen stranger things. It's believable.

Max isn't admitting she's lost a few brain cells nor is she admitting that she's 'siding' with the bad guy. Max is cautious, not stupid. It isn't like she wants to befriend the bully. She isn't exactly friends with Billy.

What she's trying to say is: his behaviour of hostility escalated to violence. He was never_ this bad_. It came sudden, like a fist during a fight.

Her stepdad moved the whole family away from California to Indiana. It was because the money he was making wasn't enough to support the family. It wasn't enough to provide for Max and her mom. That was a simple fact.

And because of that, it _could_ be said it was her fault. All her fault. Her fault that the four of them moved to the small town of Hawkins. Her fault that Billy was trapped in a shitty place where there was barely anything to do and no beach to surf. Her fault that the source of his happiness was gone.

Of course, it's ridiculous to think this way. Illogical, even. It's **not** her fault. Neil, a grown ass man, decided to move his family to someplace else. It's Neil's decision. But, Billy was too mad to see that, 'blinded by rage' or whatever. He wasn't thinking straight.

Still, Max could connect the dots though. She could see why Billy was worse now. It was the reason he was acting out, Max knew. She _knew_. This was why he became violent.

He was unhappy before, now he was just miserable. Miserable and lonely.

;;

As much as Max hates admitting it, there was no one else to talk to about missing California aside from Billy himself. Yes, her mom and stepdad also live in California, but they were _adults_, they felt things more differently than her and Billy. They were still kids. And there were certain things only they could express and cherish – more than just the warm sun on their skin, of the smell of the salty sea and the sound of crashing waves.

"Do you remember that time that seagull stole your sandwich?" Max asks, blue eyes staring straight ahead on the quiet ride to school. The radio's turned off for once.

Billy's lips twitches. "Yeah, that bastard flew out of nowhere and snatched my BLT. I was starving, and I used the last of my allowance too. I hate those damn birds."

"I think seagulls are the only thing I don't miss about California."

"Really?" Billy asks, and he sounded … _different_. "I'd rather trade five minutes on a beach with hundreds of seagulls than live in this dump."

;;

**iii**

;;

Max would like to believe that Billy's relationships with their parents weren't _that bad_. Billy was pretty neutral with her mom. Max means, well, her mother's never complained about Billy bringing girls over. So her mother must have some trust in Billy (or maybe Billy just didn't care what her mother thought).

However, it's obvious that Billy has a rocky relationship with his dad.

Her stepdad grew up with a large band of brothers. Max doesn't know how Neil Hargrove could see being abusive as something of a disciplinary lesson or mere roughhousing. Sure, Neil's gotten annoyed at Max a few times. She could be a brat and stubborn when she wanted to be, but she also knew when to not cross the line. And Max would like to think that her mom had a few words with Neil, something along the lines of "If you touch my daughter, then we're over,"

But Billy ... he's always had a temper. A bad one. And Max thinks Billy's wired himself to challenge people. For fuck's sake, he was new in town and figured the brightest idea for him to do was one-up Steve Harrington, the quote on quote 'King of the school'. What. an. idiot. Who does that?

;;

Her mom had shoved a brown paper bag into her hands before briefly kissing Max on her forehead. The act of affection made Max both wince and feel embarrassed.

"Mom," Max lightly scolds.

"What? You're still my baby."

Max only sighs.

"Don't I get a kiss back? On the cheek?" Her mother asks.

"You're going to make me late." She needs to go _now_ or Billy will yell at her again.

Susan crunches up her face. "Okay, go."

And Max pulls away, shrugging on her backpack, lunch in hand, then she freezes. Shee sees Billy staring at her mom with this distant gaze in his eyes. What was he doing?

Max blinks. "Billy?"

Billy's eyes shift, whatever memory that entered his mind had now left.

"What was that?" She asks, referring to her stepbrother's faraway look.

"Nothing," Billy hisses. "I just remembered something." Then he snaps at her to hurry out the front door. "Get your ass in the car!'"

She hustles into the blue vehicle, and her long, red hair flies behind her.

...

Max didn't think anything of it until _much later_ when she had the time. It was after dinner, there wasn't much homework to do and her mind was wandering.

She thought, _So what?_ Yeah, the day had started a little odd, but it's nothing major. Maybe Billy's still tired? Maybe he's still jet-lagged from the move?

But then her daydreaming was interrupted with Billy _yelling_ and Neil_ shouting_ and her mother _pleading_, "Stop it, Neil!", and Max found herself holding her breath and counting. One, two, three; until she couldn't hear the violence anymore. Until she found herself standing by _his_ open bedroom door.

Max immediately knew _it_ had happened. Neil had hurt Billy – _again._

"You should just stop talking to Neil like that. It only makes him upset." Max tells Billy, like she's none the wiser.

Billy looks up, chin already bruising like the kid he punched years ago.

"I know how to handle Dad." Billy snaps. "I'm used to it."

"Well," Max puffs up her chest and her small hands fell useless by her side. "You shouldn't be." She argues, feeling herself swell with girlish rage.

Max swears tears welled up in his eyes, but Billy simply says, "Leave me alone, Max."

;;

From experience, Max knows she'll always be seen as weak.

And that's not just because she's _a girl_. Some pale ginger kid with too many freckles and stick arms. She knows she's seen as weaker because, compared to Billy, she knew she was_ the lesser sibling_, she knew people would think she was second place.

People looked at Billy and thought he was cool. They saw his muscles and hair and grungy clothes and thought he could do _anything_ he set his mind too.

All these factors presented itself. Especially when those same people turned their eyes at Max and thought she was the opposite. It was just the way they stared at her, that 'look'. They thought she needed time to 'fit in' because she was 'new in town' and 'had no friends'. Actually, they thought she needed an ample amount of time because Max wasn't like the other girls her age who poured hours into magazines and make-up and scrunches.

Max had a skateboard and high scores nobody could beat. She was an _outsider_.

She was _alone._

And an easy target.

She may dress tom-boyish but that doesn't hide the fact that she finches when her stepdad yells. Tough as she may be, that doesn't mean she has hard skin against jabs.

So, when a couple of seniors mocked her loudly at the car park, Max had expected it. What she didn't expect was for Billy to yell back at the two boys like he was the new king of the school.

"Can you shitheads shut up?!" Billy had shouted, cigarettes still between his teeth as Max scrambles into the passenger seat.

Max didn't get the chance to hear the seniors' muffled replies because Billy had gotten into his own seat and slammed his side of the door shut.

"Why did you defend me?" Max asks because – there it was again: that strange, thin line that defined their stepsiblingship.

She squints her eyes; trying to see the game Billy's playing with her head. She doesn't expect him to say something corny like 'because you're my sister' because, most of the time, Billy won't even admit that they're stepsiblings.

Billy takes his time, reviving the engine. "As much as I hate it, you're associated with me. So when they embarrass you, they're also embarrassing me."

Max frowns. Typical.

"Keep your head out of trouble, you hear me?" Billy warns.

"Okay." She answers and thinks the conversation is over and done with, about to be drowned out by radio sounds until –

"Look, Max, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying this to be mushy or whatever. You can be annoying at times,"

Max resisted the urge to raise a brow. How is that 'mushy'?

"But," Billy adds before Max can argue. "You're also nice to me when my own dad isn't so I guess I don't mind looking out for you from time to time."

Max nods, a slow motion. She tries to hide the small smile on her lips. In a way, she would like to think that's the closest thing Billy will ever get to saying 'Thank you'.

"Wanna know something else?" Billy asks.

Max raises her brow this time. If this is a trick …

"You remind me of Mom sometimes." Billy said as Max picked at her skateboard and tried not to kick her feet on Billy's dashboard.

"My mom?" Max asks, now turning her clear blue eyes at him.

"No," He shakes his head, licked his lips then admitted, "Mine." Something like fondness washes over his face.

"Oh ..."

"Yeah, in certain lights." Billy admits. "Your hair almost looks blonde."

She didn't know how to respond, so she didn't.

;;

"What did we talk about?!" His father yells at him, face red and veins bulging from his neck.

Billy smothers his heated glare as he stares into his father's raging eyes.

"What did we talk about?!" His father repeats, his voice louder. He's _scary_.

Billy looks down towards his feet. He wishes he could teleport himself somewhere else. Someplace safe. Someplace familiar. The California beach. Or his mother's house. "Respect and responsibility." Billy answers, his voice low.

"Speak up! I didn't raise a pussy! Speak like a man!" His father roars, his beefy hand grabbing around Billy's neck.

Billy looks up, trying not to flinch at the eye contact, trying not to choke. The last thing he wants is his father's watchful gaze on him. "Respect and responsibility." Billy says, his voice steady, though he wants to shake.

"Good." Neil muses. "_Good_." His gaze softens. "The next time you see Maxine, I expect you to treat her like proper family, you hear me?"

Billy feels his fingers curl into a fist. Flashbacks come to him.

He's fourteen again and his father has his hands over Max's thin, freckled shoulders.

"_Billy, come meet your new sister, her name is Maxine."_ His father had said and Max had looked uncomfortable, yet still muttered, _"It's Max."_

And then Max had reached out to shake his hand and Billy remembers staring and thinking.

No.

_No_.

Billy didn't want to shake Max's hand. No, that would mean welcoming her into the family. That would mean opening the door into his world, and Billy didn't want this little girl to suffer the same horror that only he and his mother has seen. Max had no idea what she was walking into, and Billy didn't want to throw himself in front of another body.

"_Seven feet."_

Then he's transported to the present where there's still a hand around his neck and his father is waiting for a response.

"Yes, sir." Billy answers.

"Good boy." With that, Neil lets go of his son's neck, leaving bruises like gifts.

.

.

.

"I won't let them hurt you, Max."

;;

**iv**

;;

Max thinks, Billy can feel lonely at times. She has people who care about her; her mom, her friends, but Billy …

Billy doesn't have any of that. He doesn't have _friends_, he doesn't _do_ friends. He does, however, do _girlfriends_ and … older women? Blondes. And that seemed to be pretty much it. That was the only thing going for him once surfing was ripped away from him.

Max's biggest concern when she and Lucas started dating was Billy. Not her mom. And definitely not her stepdad. But Billy.

She knew she could never bring Lucas over to her house. Not that there was much to complain, she was content with hanging out at the arcade or Mike's basement. Anywhere was better than her house, Max knew she couldn't be like Billy. She wasn't like him, she couldn't just bring someone over then proceed to make 'happy noises' in her bedroom (she's fourteen, for goodness sake and –).

Billy didn't like Lucas. But, then again, he didn't like _any_ of her friends. In Billy's eyes, they were all losers. That was at least a plus. At least he wasn't racist.

Max didn't think Billy could get any worse from there on. He's a person, not milk left out of the fridge or apples forgotten in a fruit bowl – but Billy grows rotten anyhow. It was like Billy was sick, moulding himself to fit into some tough guy act so nobody _would_ hurt him. _Could_ hurt him.

Yet, he still had gotten _possessed._

Possessed like some weak link in a horror movie.

;;

It's not something Billy expected to happen to him, but when did his life ever go as expected? His mom left, he's stuck with his abusive dad, Maxine won't listen to him, he didn't even get to see Mrs Wheeler. Not that that matters anyhow, because she told him later that she didn't even come. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want him.

Nobody wants him; not his family or his step-family or strangers he liked or California.

Nobody – except the Mind Flayer.

;;

When Billy was trapped in that sauna room and all of her friends were gathering around like _they were the barbaric ones_, Max couldn't help but feel her heart _ache_. Seeing her stepbrother in such a state was depressing. He was begging; crying like a kid with snotty tears. It reminded her of days when her stepfather had gone a little too far.

"Let's just go home, Billy." Max begs, not even a feet apart but separated by a thick door.

Billy looks his sister in the eyes. "This place isn't home, Max."

And then he breaks through glass, a door, and is thrown through a wall where he distinctly remembers hearing his bones snap and his ribs crack.

;;

**v**

;;

Just like a lot of things in this world that isn't black and white – Billy is one of them. He has some redeeming qualities. Not exactly good, but he's not useless either.

If he was truly that horrible, then why drive her to school? Why wait for her to gather her stuff? Why allow her in his car when he could have just kicked her out?

He could have just booted her. But, he didn't. Most of the time, he gave her a warning, "If you're late again", and she would storm off with her skateboard in hand. She'd return home hours later, he would roll her eyes, then he'd bark at her to get ready for school. Rinse and repeat.

He's somewhat responsible. Not just to her, but to other people too. Reliable as a part-time worker. Billy's picks up jobs when he gets bored of school or during the Summers he's free.

_But_ that doesn't mean Billy has a free pass. Like Max says, he has redeeming qualities but he also has flaws.

Just because Billy saved up for his blue 78 camaro car, it doesn't mean the moving rust bucket is his baby – unlike most high school kids who earn their first car. Billy doesn't care about his car. He drives it around recklessly and threatens to either _hit _or _be hit_, he isn't afraid, and he doesn't care who the receiving person is in such a scenario is. Because of this, Max often wonders if Billy even has any regards to a living breathing being, if he's _capable _of caring, if it mattered who lived or died.

What Max concludes is: Billy's _always _been willing to die, just not alone.

;;

Max remembers pleading.

Begging the same way Billy had when he was trapped in that sauna, but he had died anyway.

Billy died, and it came as a complete shock.

It shouldn't have. But it did.

Max knew her Summer with the party would be dangerous. She knew she wasn't normal after she helped fought off those Demogorgon. She knew the possibility of someone dying was in huge numbers. Surviving would be a miracle. And her life wasn't like those arcade games she poured her hours into, there wasn't an extra heart or a reset button_, she was prepared_. Yet, when it happened. When someone died in front of her – Billy – she didn't know what to do with herself or how to react.

It was like reality crashed onto her shoulders and held her down. One minute, Billy was alive, then the next he wasn't. And it took only mere seconds for Max to realise that people can just leave out of nowhere.

;;

When the day of the funeral rolled over, it all became a big blur with Billy in a suit he'd never be caught in unless dead, a wake, flowers, tears being spilt and a secret that can't be shared.

Max was dressed in black, only fourteen, still a kid no matter what any adult tells her, and yet she felt like she had witnessed more things than people in their eighties had.

Tears welled up and her small hand trembled the same way it always had when she felt defenceless.

It wasn't fair.

_It wasn't fair._

Out of everyone to die.

As she throws a flower onto the lowering casket, Max remembers uttering the same words Billy had told her.

.

.

.

"I'm sorry."

;;

**end**

;;

**Notes 1**: You don't have to agree with me on the whole Billy aspect, because I don't either, I just wanted to understand for closure's sake. I'm just trying to make sense on how Billy ended up the way he did. Like ... I sorta get it. But also … the show could have developed Billy better? Like Steve. So yeah, this is my attempt to process.

Abusive relationships can be tricky, obviously, they're toxic, but sometimes there's more than just fear (and financial stability and a roof over one's head) that keeps someone in the 'relationship', if you can call it that. I'd call it 'hell'. But, you know, if leaving an abusive relationship was that easy (and I wish it was), then those who have unfortunately been sucked into its horrors would have left long ago. There's always this mind game and second-guessing that makes you stay for longer than you should. It's not even the benefit of the doubt, it's ... I can't place a word for it.

**Notes 2**: Why do the good die young? First Bob, then my dear, sweet Alexei!

– 8 August 2019


End file.
